It's A Girl
by Anamin
Summary: Graverobber knew they existed, but had never seen one until now. . . T rating to be safe. This was written as a One shot, but may continue if it is well received. Please R/R!


It's a girl

_**Though they are out there, Graverobber had never run across one before, but that was about to change. . . **_

'_Cause it's my job to steal and rob, Graaavees!'_ She had become an instant fan. She had studied his every move and followed him countless nights. She knew _his_ ways; she knew how to take over. It would be a new era in Z, it would be _her_ era in Z. She duplicated his moves gaining trace amounts of Z in the beginning. Right after he moved on, she would take the gun she had found discarded one day in an alley and duplicate his moves. Do exactly what he did. Her hair was short, but it was growing. She had managed to capture as many zany colors in it as he had in his own.

She admired him, but now she would become him. It was the only way to rise above her station in this crappy world. She would make it. She would live, and she wouldn't have to be perfect to do it. No surgeries, no Z, she vowed. Silvousplait. Sil for short. So named because she had become very good at pleasing people. Normally, she was a people pleaser, bowing and scraping, and just plain serving. She didn't want to make waves, she just wanted to get by, but there was a change in regime, she could feel it. Lots of rumors floated about that night after the Opera, he was talking about it himself, so were the rags. There was room for change, there was time for change.

Now, she was going to please herself. She was going to own this place. She wasn't going to be the head of GeneCo. No, no way, she didn't even want that not in a million years. She just wanted a small business where _she_ was on top, but first she had to oust the current CEO and King of 'Pure Z'.

Suddenly, rounding the corner, he was there. But Sil was not one to back down, not anymore. She was going to go around a corner or hide behind a gravestone, or quaver in fear. She stood defiantly hands on hips effectively barring the way.

"Good evening-uh-lovely lady," he greeted, stumbling for lack of her name, and bowed halfway. Sil just glared mutely. She needed to be tough, and have resolve. Face-to-face, she could see why Graverobber had the pull he did on so many people. Sil herself felt an immediate pull, but was determined to go through with this.

"Well I will call you my spitting image then, for lack of any name at all," he suddenly decided.

Again, Sil felt the pull that was Graverobber's charm. She knew she was only a cheap knockoff of his fairly distinct look. _Flattery will get you everywhere. _Though she had done her best to find a similar fur lined coat and leather carry case as he had. The closest she had come was a tan trench coat and canvas messenger bag. . .neither item fit really well, but when you rob from the dead you take what you can get. No well-tailored clothing here.

"Sil. It's Sil, and I plan to own this block."

"But this is my turf." Graverobber instantly objected, eyeing the tough cookie who was barring his passage.

"Not anymore."

"Listen, encroacher, I know you are only trying to make it, and I can't say I blame you. Others have tried in your place, you won't make it. What say we partner up. You take from Sanitarium Square to here, and I'll take here on back? How about it? Clearly, you've got style. . ." he trailed off. He was ever the used car salesman, and not used to not making the sale.

"No. All or nothing, I'm in this for one hundred percent, no give, no take, no anything like that."

"But you're a girl," Graverobber quickly inserted.

"So? Come on, I've watched you. You have to make your rounds all night long, be available all night long. That can get tiresome, what's one small piece of territory to you?"

"I can think of another way. To partner up," he moved in close, but Sil was having none of it and backed up quickly. She had seen this particular stunt before. All of his 'partners' tended to end up ODing or lackeys that did his bidding. That's not want she wanted. Top Dog, nothing else would do. She must harden herself. She could not give in to his charms, must _not_ give in to his charms.

"Look, here's the thing, I've been on the bottom rung for so long. What's it to you if I climb to the top of the ladder?" Why was she explaining herself to him? She didn't have to. He was just a man, no matter how high the pedestal. The higher the pedestal, the greater the fall.

"You think I got here on my good looks alone, sister?" Graverobber's glare was accusatory, offended, maybe a little hurt.

"Well, I thought-" Sil shrugged her shoulders and nodded, not really knowing how he got where he got. She had always assumed it was because of his celebrity 'get', Amber Sweet.

"Wrong!" He spat not letting her finish her thought. He was going to get past her and get to his turf and his customers. He was tired of playing nice and charming. It was time to wake up the princess from her dream; no more back and forth. He was ending this right now. Angry as he was getting, he suddenly had a change of heart. He was sure he could make her agree that this was a mistake.

The life she was choosing was not an easy one, and clearly, she had been watching him, and closely. She actually did remind him of himself when he was her age. He immediately softened on realizing the thought. There was enough hate in this world and he had enough customers, some nights he _was_ so very tired. The truth is that she was right; it was probably why he had gotten so angry at first. The truth is, he wasn't getting any younger. He could give her a chance.

"Look, there's a girl, she lives in this neighborhood, and she has been shut in or missing or something since the night of the Opera. Get me some intel on her and we have a deal. No one knows quite what happened to her, if she ran away, if the Largos have her tied up in a cell somewhere. . ." he again trailed off. It seemed it was what he was good at, but looking for Shilo Wallace would take this chic some doing, and in the mean time the turf would be his for the taking as well as the customers.

In any case, the mission would get her out of his hair and buy him time to tell the regulars he was relocating. Either way it was a win/win situation for him. All of his customers would follow him to the new neighborhood and her business would fail, thus the turf would be his to take of. Or not. Maybe she would succeed instead of fail, and maybe this is one that that scared him the most, about this whole proposition and being opposed. He was not used to being opposed, but he had no desire to start a drug war. He was a coward and he needed to lay low. He was also not one start a turf war over Z, though it had happened in the past, he was lazy, 'water seeks its own level, takes the path of least resistance' or some such. Hopefully, this would be the wild goose chase that would buy him the time he needed to make other plans.

While he could disappear altogether, the thought wasn't too appealing. This was one of the routes that would help him get by for sure; many folks depended on Z here. This neighborhood had its alleyways and slumlords, but it was also suburbia. Surgery was had, and Z kept folks oblivious of their pain. The Wallace's had lived in relative affluence. There was medical equipment and medicine to keep up the sham that was the sick little girl inside the very large house. Mr. Wallace was well paid, but now he was gone.

No doubt Sil would find squatters only. He wondered idly if Shilo knew there was a price on her head. He sort of missed the Kid. Dealing could get lonely, but things were always too busy for him to dwell on his feelings. He was a street rat, he knew that, had no desire to be anything BUT that. He enjoyed his place in life, but it took a lot of energy to do what he did. He, at least, was wanted now, every night.

Sil still stood in the way, but appeared to be pondering the idea. "I'm no spy, but I agree to your terms. Where would you like to meet once I find this girl, and bring her to you?"

"Just intel. I only need the intel." What the heck was he going to do with a sick little girl? No, he could get rewarded merely for informing where the waif was nothing more. He had no immediate plans other than that. He and Amber were on the outs since the Opera and he wasn't going to try to revive anything that didn't need reviving. He wasn't sure why the change. Perhaps she had merely been busy.

"Ok intel. When and where would you like to meet to get the intel."

"I'll find you." He stated and walked past her, back into the black of night.

Well, she supposed her little kingdom would have to wait, and now she was going to have his folks looking over her shoulder now. She sure hadn't done herself any favors. Perhaps this was going to be harder than she initially pictured. There was nothing for it now, but to find the girl.

_**TBC? Possibly**_


End file.
